


Dancing In The Sun

by monkiainen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bloodplay, M/M, Rain, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 23:50:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10292705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkiainen/pseuds/monkiainen
Summary: Sirius is running around in the rain, thinking about his past and how he became the man he is now.





	

Rain, rain, rain everywhere. Big puddles of mud, and pools of water, and the fresh smell of everything around him. It is all purged, freshened, made new. Padfoot is happy, so happy. So many new smells to follow, not so easy to decide where to go next. The park? No, the Muggles don't like "stray dogs" -- even if he has a collar now, with tag and everything. But still, Muggles. Not his cup of tea.

The playground? The smells of happy children are always good; they remind him of the Marauders. But then, they also remind him of how _horrible_ they were towards Severus in those days. What a fool he had been! They could have been happy so much sooner, if he had taken his thick head out of his arse and seen what was right in front of him. Oh, the egotism of his teenage self! So foolish. No playground, then. 

Oh. That was it, that was it, that was it! A nice, smelly, _vibrant_ forest, right at the edge of the village. Yesyesyes. Can I go, please can I go? I want to play there, oh please, I need to go now. Smells, smells, and that was definitely a hare he smelled, right under that bush and now it runs and he must catch it and he goes and runs and runs but the hare is faster but it's alright because he still got to run. And now he is thirsty but because it still rains there are large puddles of fresh water literally everywhere so it's not a problem.

He drinks and drinks until he can't drink anymore and then it's almost nightfall but he doesn't want to go home, not just yet. There is still so much he needs to do, no, he wants to do, because there were years where he couldn't run around like _this_. Like there is no tomorrow and he can be carefree if only for a minute, because dogs don't have to worry about things like money or work or being productive or seeking forgiveness. Dogs just _are_ and that is what he wants right now. Padfoot wants to play, but Sirius knows Padfoot can't go on playing forever and ever. Sirius has responsibilities now, responsibilities he is not too certain he can handle or is even the right person to deal with because being responsible and _a real adult_ is so fucking scary. How do other people deal with it?

Deep inside him Sirius knows the answer, even if he is not quite ready to admit it to himself. The other people haven't spent most of their adult life in a Wizarding prison, albeit innocent of the horrid crimes he was accused of. They have had time to grow into their responsibilities over the course of their lives, and when it comes to him? Bam, now you're a young adult without the care in the world having fun! Bam, it's nearly 20 years later and now you're all grown up with the same mental space than your younger self because you haven't exactly been the part of the real society for so long.

_Fuck you, Peter. I trusted you, and look where it got me. I should have trusted someone else instead. Or better yet, I should have been a better friend and not belittled you every fucking step of the way. Because let's face it, that's exactly what I did so it's no wonder you went to Voldemort in the first place. He was probably the first person in your whole pathetic excuse of a life that praised you in some way. And you, fucking histrionic weakling, bought everything he said, not even once questioning his motives. Dimwit. You should have been sorted in Slytherin instead -- fucking Sorting Hat._

Thinking about Peter and his betrayal makes Sirius's blood boil, so he gnarls and snarls and barks and howls a bit to the empty clearing before him. But it doesn't really make him feel better, no. He wants so badly to sink his teeth to something living and breathing, to hurt someone, to make someone bleed, but it's as if the forest senses his sinister thoughts and there is no other living thing nearby he can smell. But the need is strong, so strong and Sirius is at a loss for what he should do.

Somewhere in the distance, a church bell strikes ten and Sirius knows that's his cue. Instead of Apparating, though, he starts jogging slowly, letting the rain wet his fur completely. He knows he's stalling, most definitely, but he needs the time to think, to ponder. Half an hour here and there won't make a difference.

By the time Sirius gets home, he's soaking wet and still confused as fuck. He still wants to hurt someone, to make someone bleed, because he can't hurt Peter anymore. It was very fitting for the coward to die from his own hand, although Sirius would have preferred to kill the fucker himself -- as slowly and painfully as possible. With those vengeful thoughts whirring in his mind Sirius changes back to himself.

The only light in the cottage is the fire burning in the hearth, casting a reddish hue around the parlour. Severus is there, sitting in his favourite chair by the fireplace. Neither man says a word, and they don't really have to; Sirius feels the familiar touch of Severus's mind in his, gently seeking out his thoughts and feelings. Tonight Sirius is more than thankful that his husband is such a skilled Legilimens because he really is not in the mood for talking. It's easier to let his erratic thoughts run around in his mind, because Severus will understand him even if Sirius doesn't understand himself at all.

Severus sighs softly, rising up from his beloved chair. His footsteps are almost silent on the wooden floor when he moves closer to Sirius, pulling the taller man closer once he reaches Sirius. Sirius knows it's futile to resist Severus, even though his wet clothes aren't the most appealing attire he has ever worn. What Severus wants Severus gets, and Sirius is more than happy to comply with his cherished husband.

Without warning, Severus sends an image to his mind, portraying what he wants from Sirius tonight. At first Sirius does not know how to react -- how could he do something like _that_ to Severus, the person he loves more than anything? But Severus soothes his mind, telling Sirius it's alright, he knows what he's asking for, he knows that Sirius won't actually hurt him. Deep inside his mind Sirius knows that what Severus says is right, that this is something they both want, but he still has his doubts. Didn't he torment Severus enough when they were schoolboys?

Severus takes the lead, kissing Sirius soundly on the lips. _"Please Sirius, please..."_ he whispers softly inside Sirius's head, letting Sirius feel his emotions. Sirius gives in, kissing Severus back with all he's got. If this is what they both want, then Sirius has no problem letting go.

Sirius mutters a spell under his breath, making Severus's clothes disappear. For a few moments he can only stare and admire his partner's ivory skin in awe before experimentally sinking his teeth to Severus' right shoulder. Severus gasps, tightening his grip on Sirius, but not once letting go. Sirius bites a little harder, and tastes blood on his tongue -- the more animal side of him wants more, now. Sirius licks the wound he inflicted, sucking occasionally. Severus gasps again, slowly thrusting himself against Sirius who can feel the beginnings of his partner's erection against his own. But it's not enough, not yet, so Sirius bites Severus again, this time right above his left collarbone. He uses more force than on his first bite, and the low moan he gets from Severus in return is more than satisfying. The taste of Severus' blood in his tongue is exhilarating, arousing, and exquisite, and he wants more. Sirius snarls under his breath, nibbling Severus again and again and again until his whole body is covered with Sirius's teeth marks and small scratches. Some of the scratches are bleeding a bit -- the contrast between Severus's pale skin and the ruby red blood is so stunningly beautiful that Sirius almost forgets to breath.

Severus is fully erect now, his cock standing proud and erect between his legs. Sirius ponders briefly the old saying about big noses and penises before swooping Severus into his arms and carrying him in front of the fireplace. Severus is beautiful, his skin illuminated by the glow of the embers, and all Sirius wants is to pluck the memory of this particular moment from his mind and store it in a Pensieve forever and ever. There are more urgent things on his mind, however, like pounding into Severus with all his might. Sirius Summons the lube from their bedroom, coating his fingers and throbbing cock with it. Severus, the sly bastard, keeps sending him images of how _exactly_ he thinks Sirius is going to do it, and those images alone are almost enough to send Sirius over the edge. Not yet, he thinks to himself, not quite yet. It's not time, yet. Meanwhile Severus has moved onto all fours, quirking his eyebrow as a wordless invite while he's watching Sirius over his shoulder.

Severus is still slick and open from their more gentle lovemaking that afternoon, so Sirius doesn't have to prepare him that much. One finger, two fingers, three, and then he replaces his fingers with his cock with one swift thrust. Severus is so good and hot and impossibly tight around him, and the blood is running from his wounds, making him seem so otherworldly. But Severus is real, so real, and so is everything that is happening right now between them. Sirius growls more loudly, gripping Severus's hips so hard that there will definitely be more bruises the next day. Severus is his, his alone, nobody else's. His mate, his partner, his one. The other half of his soul he now knows he can't live without. 

Sirius starts thrusting slowly, changing his angle bit by bit until he finds the one sweet spot he's aiming for. Severus moans, more loudly this time, as Sirius continues to glide by his prostate. Over and over again, until Severus is writhing under him, begging Sirius to let him come. And Severus gets what he wants, because Sirius picks up the pace, pounding Severus with all his might. So close, so close… Sirius sinks his teeth one time more to Severus's shoulder, biting hard. That's the last thing that sends Severus over the edge, and soon Sirius follows him.

For a moment only their gasps for breath can be heard in the small cottage. It takes Sirius a moment to realise that it has finally stopped raining -- a new day is about to begin. Severus cleans the evidences of their lovemaking with a soundless spell, healing the biggest wounds in the progress as well. There is still dried blood all over his skin, but to Sirius he is still the most gorgeous person in the world.

The two wizards step outside in all their naked glory, watching the sun rise from the horizon. A new day is waiting for them and maybe, instead of running around in rain, they get to dance in the sun.


End file.
